


Hunger

by kamikaze43v3r



Series: Cravings [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, M/M, POV Experimental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 09:57:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8975023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamikaze43v3r/pseuds/kamikaze43v3r
Summary: The hunger is black; a void and consuming. It takes everything inside him and it’s killing him slowly. He wishes it would stop. But it doesn’t.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever seen someone so beautiful you want to consume them?

There is a hunger.

It consumes and wants. It ravages everything and clutchess, ripping and digging with its claws. It doesn’t stop. It takes his breath away as he yearns, so painfully, so deprived. His breath hitches and it’s hard to breathe. His eyes drag all over the man before him. The hunger grows. His fingers twitch, itching to touch. Wanting to act on his desire. His chest is burning. His mouth hangs open ever slightly, flicking his tongue over his dry, chapped lips.

The hunger is black; a void and consuming. Smokey like it would dissipate, but a paradox in the way it’s never-ending. It takes everything inside him and it’s killing him slowly. He wishes it would stop. But it doesn’t.

 

\-----

 

He holds it back but he can only do so much.

With every touch, every spoken word, the hunger grows. It takes all of him to not break into pieces and unleash it. His hands tremble as they curl into fists. His head hangs low, not wanting to meet the other’s gaze. Not wanting the man to see any inkling of his desire. A broken sob escapes and he bites his lip. The man does not move away. He wishes he doesn’t go, but at the same time, he’s terrified, afraid his control would slip from him any second.

And when the touches disappear he finds himself taking a step forward for more and a whimper escapes, sounding almost animal-like. He imagines that is how the void would sound: All instinct and desperation.

He shrinks further into himself and turns to where she - _cruel words, anger, hatred, pain_ \- is waiting for him, her cold eyes seeing his true self, and he knows he deserves every hurt.

 

\-----

 

It gets harder to breathe. Every waking moment is a struggle. He clings to his flyers of printed fire and written hate but he doesn’t want to stain them red from her brand of motherly love. He feels tears prickle his eyes and he closes them, holds them back like he does to the void inside. He’s both terrified and relieved to hear the man's voice again, accompanied by the soft touch to his neck.

The man calls his name, but he can only respond with a nod or a verbal greeting. Not even taking a chance to meet his gaze. Nowadays, he holds his breath whenever he’s near. Doesn’t want to breathe in his scent, not wanting to feed the hunger. Doesn’t want to hope for anything as each time they meet, the man pulls him closer, his touches linger longer, and the healing magic feels warmer on his skin.

He worries the man's scent would stick to him like sin, worries she would sniff it out, and add it as another reason for him to suffer, because that's what all he seems to exist for. He tries to pull away from him, but doesn't expect those increasingly familiar hands to frame his hollowed cheeks and tilt his face upwards. He is frozen, eyes fixed on the man's heavy brows over a steely gaze.

The man murmurs his name once again, and he could only close his eyes as the hunger pounds desperately in his chest.

 

\----

 

He finally finds relief in his suffering.

The man's lies were revealed and he sighs in resignation, even through the anger at the betrayal. His face still burns from the slap the man gave him. The words from him, casting him away with a sneer had carved a hole into his chest, right where the blackness dwells.

It had been too good to be true, after all. Should he have listened to her words and whips of warning?

He no longer sees the need to keep the hunger in its cage; the man has already thrown it wide open for the darkness to seep out. The black smoke wraps its tendrils around him almost comfortingly. It is enough to let him laugh brokenly at his foolishness and dry his tears while he hears the man beckon his sister with the same soft words he'd used on him.

There is a hunger, growing larger and larger. It consumes the brick walls and his sister's fearful cries.

“You can control it, Credence,” the man says, the same steely eyes he had been so afraid to look into now holding a mix of fear, awe and desire.

He doesn't know how to feel about it. But he does know that his voracity has taken hold, its smoke-like form swirling violently around him like a whirlwind.

Through his angry tears, he hears the exhaustion in his voice, still broken from sorrow and acceptance. “I don't think I want to, Mister Graves.”

It consumes and wants. It ravages everything and clutches, ripping and digging with its claws. It doesn’t stop. It takes his breath away as he wants nothing more but to consume the man in front of him. His breath hitches and it's hard to breathe.

It is he who is consumed by the hunger, but all he finds is sweet, numbing relief.


End file.
